The Letter I never meant to give you
by Katia-chan
Summary: A letter written by Ryou to Bakura, tells about his history, and how he feels about his yami. Not yaoi, and some facts could be wrong. r/r! flames welcome


Dear Bakura,  
  
Well, I suppose that was a bad way to start this, you are not exactly dear to me. Some would take it as far as hate, but I don't hate you, but you are not dear to me, so, let me start this again.  
  
To My Yami Bakura,  
  
There, now that's better. I do not know why I am writing this to you. If you read it you will probably want to teach me a "lesson" of some sort, but I really don't care. I can guess that right about now you are fuming, ready to pound me for being so disobedient, but as I said before, I do not care. Before you come after me with a knife and try to kill me please read this, then at least I'll know that I stated my point. Well, here it goes, I'm starting you off with a little history to make you understand, I'll work from there.  
  
I was born here, and I lived with my family, my entire family. My wonderful mother, my absent father and the person who means the most to me, even though she is dead, my Amane-chan. My mother was wonderful, but she had no strength. My father was gone a lot and that made her nervous. It made us nervous, now that yu mention it. Dad would be gone for months on end, and when he came home we'd all hover over him. I still believe, to this day that that was what made him stay away. He hated it in the spotlight.  
  
Well, when Amane. When she died my mother had a sort of breakdown. She couldn't function anymore. She had lost her daughter, her husband was gone and her son was fading into a shadow who rarely showed his face. I think she stopped eating and literally wasted away. My father came back to find me alone, mom was still alive, but barely and I had to have her cared for at home, because she still believed Amane was at home and might need her. Finally she died, and my father left. He buried himself more in his work. I think he hates seeing me, still to this day because I remind him of the family he used to have. I don't even know if he's dead or alive, though I assume that he is still with me because I got a check last month. Well, on his last trip home he gave me the ring. That leads me to the second part of this, I have bored you with history long enough and it's time to get to the point. He gave me the ring, and I found you. I'm not going to lie, I was joyful when I first saw you, finally! Someone to share my life and loneliness with, but I was disappointed. You were so cold and made me feel more alone. It was like the few times my father came home. I never saw him, but knowing that there was someone there and I still had no company made it worse. That, is how you made me feel. There was someone so close that I could share my burden with, but you were out of reach. I don't know if you have your own burdens, I assume you do. Probably heavier then mine, and I am willing to share those with you, but I understand that I couldn't understand your burdens, but I hoped you would help me with mine. You didn't, and you still don't, and I almost hate you for it. For torturing me with being so close and so far. I could almost call it loathing I feel for you, but then I'd be lying. As I am sure you have heard there is a fine line between love and hate, I am on the middle of that line. The others think I want to get rid of the ring, to live like a normal fifteen year old. I'm telling the truth, I have considered it. I considered just throwing you away, I'd be alone again, but it would be complete and thus less painful. You're fuming now, right? Well, since you are able to read this then you can assume that I haven't done it. I almost did once, almost threw it off a bridge on my way home, but I didn't.  
  
I wish you would open up, but I don't see that happening, both of us are shut up tight, unwilling to let anyone se. You hide behind your coldness and um...evilness, I behind my meekness and shyness. I suppose I am as guilty as you are about not opening. Now I am, and I think you owe me the truth. You don't think I've opened up enough? Well, let me tell you this. I didn't throw the ring away, because, in some strange way, I like the threats, the bruises, and the fleeting moments of kindness. The threats and bruises make me feel strong, because I know half the kids I know wouldn't handle it so quietly. There is something fulfilling about how evil you are. I still consider tossing the ring eventually, that's right, tossing it. No matter how much I love your company and the threats and bruises I am sick of hiding behind the I fell down the stairs excuse.  
  
I have to warn you, I am close to breaking. There is only so long you can keep yourself shut in before you explode. You use me as your energy release, but I don't have anyone to take it all out on. If my idiot father were here I'd probably take it out on him, but since he's not and I am scared of you then that leaves me. Me, that's all it's been for years. You are to wrapped up in your own troubles to notice how close to falling apart I am and my father is to busy sticking his head in the sand to remember he has a son. I can't keep going like this, that's why I wrote this thing, I was close to exploding, to throwing myself and the ring off the bridge, but since I had paper in front of me and a pen I tried it, and it worked for the time being. Well, you may ask why I wrote this, why I'm putting myself into this vulnerable position. Well, I am like you, I don't like to put myself in situations like this, that's why I'm so quie5t, but I'm about to crumble, I need someone to hold me together, and I need a way to vent. You may ask, what do I want from you. Well, it's not such a complicated request. All I want is someone I can depend on when I can't depend on my own 2 feet. That's all I ask, but to everyone else, it seems like way to much to hope for. I don't know about you. Is it to much to hope for? Can I ever depend on you like I want to? Probably not, oh well. I've vented for now, and the more I think about it, the more I'm deciding that I'm just going to put this in an envelope and not give it to you. I don't want to get the shit kicked out of me because I feel. I'm not giving this to you, it'll be the reminder of what I might have had. If it had been different, if it had all been different. Well, even though I'm not sending this I need to sign off some how. So, hmmm, how to end this. I don't love you, and despite what you think, I am not yours, and I am sincere, but not about much. I am mainly confusing myself, so I'm just going to end it right here.  
  
Ryou Bakura.  
  
*  
  
"Bakura?" came the faint voice from the corner.  
  
"What do you want Hikari Baka," Bakura growled, making the boy wince.  
  
"You. You got a letter from Marik-sama." Bakura stood up and walked towards Ryou. When he was standing abuv him he swung and his hand cracked across Ryou's face.  
  
"You do not call anyone Sama except for me you pathetic excuse for a human! Do you understand me?!" Ryou nodded, wiping the tears from his eyes. He turned and ran up the stairs. Bakura would've followed him, but he wanted to read the letter. He walked into the dark kitchen and walked to the table where he grabbed the first envelope he saw. Ripping it open he sat down in a chair and began to read.  
  
"Dear Bakura,"  
  
A/N: ...um, where did that come from, it's about four and I started writing this. This is more random then most of my stories, and that is saying something, let me know what you think, and if you think it should be taken down, then tell me, doesn't matter how nicely. You will not offend me. Well, I hope you got a good thought line out of this, if you want something much better and with a much better style and situation go check out some of Wingleader Sora Jade's things. They are really good, and gave me the inspiration, if not the directi idea for this little fickish thing. Reviewers get a Bakura plushy.  
  
Ttfn  
  
Katia 


End file.
